Sheogorath's Curse
by bale626
Summary: S/I; When the Daedric prince of madness gets bored, he branches out from Tamriel, and looks for ways to make life fun... for him, anyways. Unfortunately for those involved, his fun usually ends in hell on earth for everyone else. - *Discontinued*
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I've wanted to do a Skyrim story for a while now, but couldn't come up with a good way to start it. I think I've finally figured out a good start for it, but I'll just have to wait and see if anyone else agrees with me.

Sheogorath's Curse

Chapter 1

* * *

"Fultheim, are you still here, you old codger? How many bottles of ale have you had this time?"

The Nord merely shook his head. Nathaniel sighed, running a hand through his short, red hair, his hazel eyes returning to his work of sweeping the floor. Glancing at a piece of parchment on the wall, he realized it had been three years.

'_Three years since that damn Daedra dropped my ass in this frozen wasteland._'

Thinking back as he worked, Nathaniel could still remember what had happened. He had been home, typing up a paper for some college class. A bang and a flash, then the next thing he knew, he was floating in some ethereal plane of nothingness, with Sheogorath, the Daedric lord of madness, in front of him. He had spouted off about ten different subjects at once, none making any sense to him. With a smirk, the Daedric bastard had launched him through the ether, until his naked body had landed in a snowy forest.

If it hadn't been for Hadring, the former owner of the Nightgate Inn, he would have frozen to death out in those woods. As it were, the Nord had willingly taken him in, saving his life. While Nathaniel didn't have many skills that would serve him very well in a medieval land such as Skyrim, he was a rather decent cook, having taken a number of cooking classes in school. That alone had earned him a place to stay at the Nightgate Inn.

The small tavern was located a short distance away from Winterhold, a hold whose only notable feature was the College of Mages. As such, the Inn rarely saw any real traffic. But Nathaniel didn't mind. It kept things relatively calm. Rather, as calm as it could get in Skyrim, a land plagued by bandits, thieves, assassins, and civil war. Nightgate Inn itself hadn't been immune to those troubles, either.

Nathaniel had learned that lesson the hard way less than a year after his transition, when in the dead of night, a blood-curdling scream had awoken him. He had rushed out of his room, an iron dagger in hand, only to find Hadring dead, lying in a pool of his own blood, with a Dark Brotherhood assassin over his body. The man had smirked when he saw him, before tossing him the deed to the Inn. In a flash, he had disappeared, leaving Nathaniel very confused, and very concerned about his future.

His concern had been unwarranted. No other problems had occurred in the two and a half years since he had taken over the Nightgate inn. The tavern was still rarely visited, and the wagon of supplies still showed up every month. The supplier had been surprised at Hadring's apparent demise, but had merely shrugged, stating that so long as the gold was good, he would still bring supplies. Nathaniel had been extremely grateful for that.

He could recount the few noteworthy events of the past three years on one hand. It left Nathaniel feeling somewhat disconcerted. To be dropped into an alternate dimension because of the Daedric lord of madness, only to be stuck sitting in a quiet, out of the way Inn for three years was suspicious, bordering on paranoia inducing. In his defense, Nathaniel had taken some of the time to try his hand at working a sword, a bow and arrow, forging, and a small dabble of magic.

The swordsmanship and smithing had progressed just fine, having no real issues in teaching himself to work with the blade and the metal forge behind the Inn. Archery, however, had taken a huge time investment. Before Sheogorath's visit, he would have been lucky to hit the broad side of a barn with a bow and arrow. After three years, he still could only barely hit an archery target at fifty paces. He had, however, made more progress with magic, though mostly with restoration, and a minor amount of destruction magic.

Healing magic came along fine for Nathaniel. Especially when he would make a mistake while practicing with his steel sword, and have to heal a nasty gash in his leg or arm. The only destruction magic he could seem to easily master was fire; he chalked that one up to the fact that he had always had a love of fire, even as a child. He could occasionally muster up a blast of sparks, but not that frequently. Frost and ice spells were seemingly completely beyond his reach.

In his first year, magic spells seemed to drain him of everything he had; as though his body had no tolerance or buildup of magicka. But as time went on, his body seemed to accumulate the magic-sustaining substance, as though the essence of magicka was absorbed into his body through the food and water he consumed. Knowing what little he did of science and biology from school, Nathaniel was willing to guess it to be a likely reason. After all, he didn't have anything else to base the change on, and it seemed plausible.

Having utilized his knowledge of technology and practical advancements before transitioning to Skyrim, Nathaniel had built a plumbing system, giving him the ability to have a bath house. He had been lucky to discover a large water reservoir within a nearby mountain. Installing a plumbing line had been a bit trickier, but he had managed it after a month and a half of working on it.

Though the Nightgate Inn was rather isolated, and off the beaten path, it had more recently seen a rise in traffic from couriers, both from the Stormcloaks and Imperials. It had also seen a number of curious guests after he had sent out couriers with medieval versions of ads about his 'hot baths.' While he didn't have many regulars, he had two reliable ones; Fultheim, a Nordic veteran warrior who would continuously drink himself into a dull stupor, and an Orc named Balagog. The Orc was the stranger of the pair, being very well spoken and intelligent. Nathaniel, however, took the same opinion of the previous owner of the Inn; the Orc paid well, and paid far in advance. Beyond that, he couldn't care less.

The clinking of bottles drew him out of his reverie. Shaking his head, Nathaniel let out a sigh, and put the broom away, moving to the fire, stoking the embers with a poker. His attention was drawn from the fire, however, as he heard the door to the Inn open, a gust of wind blasting from the outside.

Turning, he saw a woman enter, pulling a hood away from her face as she closed the door behind her. A single eyebrow rose on Nathaniel's face as he saw the woman appeared to be Nordic. It was a rarity to see in this part of Skyrim, due to the fact that most Nords focused more on fighting than magic.

The woman had flowing blonde hair, coming down to her shoulders. Her skin was just slightly tinted enough to count as tanned, with bright green eyes taking everything in. He could see she was only just shorter than his six foot frame. Nathaniel also noticed the expensive ebony sword on her hip, as well as the Nordic bow on her back and the glass armor she was wearing.

Putting the fire poker down, he brushed his hands together, asking, "May I help you, ma'am?"

The woman seemed to regard him a moment, before nodding. "Yes; I am looking to rent a room."

With a nod, he turned and walked behind his counter, reaching down and picking up a set of keys. "Only ten septims a night." As she pulled out her coin purse, he couldn't help but ask, "What brings you up this way?"

The woman looked up for a moment, before replying. "I am headed for the College of Winterhold. I need to find out some information, and the mages there should be able to help me."

Nathaniel nodded. "Fair enough. I was merely curious; we don't get many visitors up here, with Winterhold being such a small and remote hold." Smirking to himself, he added, "Of course, for some strange reason people aren't too attracted to the wonderful snow, blasting wind, and mountainous terrain, either."

The woman smiled slightly at his joke. "No, I do not suppose they would be."

With a shrug, Nathaniel began wiping down his countertop. "That said, if you're interested, the hot baths are out back. Just be careful, the water's hot enough to scald at first."

Her eyes widened slightly. "This is where the hot baths are located?"

He smirked again, rolling his eyes. "Yes, this tiny hovel out in the ass end of nowhere has working hot baths. Trust me, you aren't the first to be so surprised by that, and I highly doubt you'll be the last."

Her smile didn't diminish, but she apologized. "I am sorry; I meant no offense."

He waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I'm fully aware of how remote this Inn really is. Frankly, the hot baths were my only good idea to get more traffic through here at all. After all, what's better after a long ride or walk then to soak yourself in a pool of hot water?" With a shrug, he continued, "Now, as I said, feel free to help yourself to the baths."

She nodded, her eyes twinkling. "I think I will, thank you."

Before she could turn to leave, Nathaniel asked, "Were you wanting to purchase some food while you're here? I haven't had much opportunity to cook for a few days, so if you'd like something fresh, just say the word."

Quirking a brow at his seemingly peculiar language, she nevertheless nodded, "I would appreciate some food, actually. Thank you for your hospitality."

Waving her off again, he just smiled. "It's my pleasure."

She smiled back at him, before walking out, heading for the bath house behind the Nightgate Inn. Shaking his head, Nathaniel turned and walked down into the cellar, pulling out his stock of chilled vegetables. The cold always seemed to seep through the walls of the cellar, making for a great way for him to keep vegetables fresh for longer. Moving upstairs, he walked out into a separate room he had added onto the Inn, shivering as he did so. The room acted as his medieval freezer, keeping meat frozen.

Pulling a chunk of venison out, he quickly took the various ingredients to the pot, and began chunking the meat, dicing the vegetables, before tossing it all into the black kettle. With a smirk, he put in his own personal hot sauce, something he had figured out how to create using snowberries, juniper berries, troll fat, fire salts, moon sugar, and spriggan sap. While a bit expensive to make, he always kept a bottle of it ready to use, just for special occasions. In his mind, he figured having a pretty woman staying at his Inn counted as a special occasion.

It was a short while later the woman in question came back inside, wearing a casual dress with her armor and weapons in a large pack on her back. She gave him a smile as she walked to her room, putting her belongings away, before coming back out into the central hall. Stepping up next to him, she inhaled deeply.

"That smells wonderful. What is it?"

scooping out a bowl, he replied, "Venison stew, with my own special sauce. Tell me what you think."

The woman gingerly took a bite, before her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That is really hot!"

Nathaniel smirked, nodding. "That would be the special hot sauce I use."

She gave him a stink-eye as she grabbed a glass of water. "I take it that means you will not tell me the recipe you use?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. What good is a secret recipe if I don't keep it a secret?"

She took a seat in one of the chairs next to the fire, so Nathaniel sat down, perpendicular to her from the fire pit. She seemed to regard him for a moment, before asking, "What is your name?"

Hesitating a moment, he replied, "My name is Nathaniel."

Her brow furrowed slightly. "No last name?"

He shook his head as he looked away. "No, no last name. Not anymore." They both fell quiet for a few moments, before he forced himself to smile again. "What about you? Do you have a name?"

She smiled at him, before answering his question. "My name is Celria; Celria Artoria."

Nathaniel gave her a courteous nod. "Well Celria, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well, Nathaniel." After a few moments, Celria asked, "Are you certain you cannot tell me what you use to make your hot sauce?"

Giving the girl an overly dramatic sigh, he replied, "I'm afraid not, madame. However, if you are so set on it, I could be persuaded to give you a bottle of it."

Celria's eyes widened, and she leaned forward. "You would? Really?" She paused, before becoming visibly suspicious. "Why?"

A single eyebrow raised, he replied, "Yes, I would. As for why, mainly because you're tolerating my company. That's worth almost as much as the bottle of sauce is worth, for how little decent company I get out here. Just because I get the occasional customer, doesn't mean they're worth much for conversation."

The woman nodded, seemingly pacified by his answer. Finishing off her stew, she stood, and handed him the bowl. "Well, thank you for the stew. How much do I owe you for it?"

He waved her off, standing and taking the bowls away. "For indulging me in a shared meal, no charge." Glancing over his shoulder, he smirked. "Just don't expect a free breakfast as well. I have to make _some_ money out of this endeavor."

Celria laughed, before turning towards her room. "Thank you again Nathaniel."

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he cleaned the bowls, and then began cleaning up the cookware. After a few minutes of this, Fultheim let out a cough, slurring out a barely coherent statement. "Y-you knows who she isss, right?"

Nathaniel shot the man a questioning look. "Who she is?"

The drunken warrior nodded. "Yeah, her. She's that… uh, what was it called again? Oh, yeah… that there woman… she's that dragonborn… thing."

Nathaniel nearly dropped the pot he was holding. "W-what?!"

"Uh huh. Heard it… from some courier. Woman with glass armor and an ebony sword…" With that, Fultheim passed out, his head smacking against the wooden table with a dull thud.

The Inn keeper felt nearly sick to his stomach. He had just shared a casual meal with a woman destined to fight off the end of the world. Not just that, he'd practically _flirted_ with her!

Nathaniel worked on cleaning things, practically running on autopilot, his mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. Celria had gone from a cute woman staying in his Inn to a seasoned and battle-hardened warrior, slayer of dragons and champion of the lands. He wasn't entirely sure what to even make of it.

The longer he thought about it, the calmer he became. Celria hadn't seemed annoyed at the way he treated her; rather, she seemed to enjoy it. Nathaniel wasn't sure how long the woman had known she was the dragonborn, but he figured it may have been a while, for her to have glass armor and an ebony sword. Which would mean that almost everyone in Skyrim would know what she was. With a start, he realized the woman may have actually appreciated being treated as a person, instead of an idolized hero.

Shaking his head, he did his best to push the entire thing out of his mind. The last thing he needed was for these thoughts to keep him from getting his work done, or from getting any sleep that night. Moving to the back of the Inn, he rolled out his bedroll on the floor, over top a pile of hay, and laid down, nestling down for the night. The last thing he saw in his mind before falling asleep was Celria's green eyes.

* * *

"Nathaniel?"

He awoke with a start, feeling someone shake his shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Celria standing above him, seemingly confused. "Yes?"

"Why are you sleeping on the floor like this, instead of a bed?"

Nathaniel shrugged as he sat up, stretching. "If I sleep in one of the beds, it's a bed I can't sell for the night. Besides, by staying out here, I can keep track of when someone comes into the Inn in the middle of the night."

The woman appeared skeptical, but didn't push it any further. "I apologize for waking you so early."

Glancing out the small window built into the wall just beneath the roof, he could see that it wasn't even light outside yet. He waved her off. "Don't worry yourself over it. Did you need something?"

She shrugged, and he noticed she was dressed in her armor and weaponry, her pack on her back. "I wanted to pay you before I left. I did not want you to think I had left without paying."

He stood up, nodding. "I appreciate that. Would you like to stay for a quick breakfast? I think I have a couple eggs that are still fresh."

She shook her head, a slight smile, and "No, you do not have to-"

He cut her off, moving towards the cellar stairs. "Nonsense. Just wait right here; I'll be right back."

Moving to the cellar cold room, he smiled as he saw he still had half a dozen eggs. He was even happier to find the eggs didn't smell. Grabbing them, as well as a pack of thinly sliced venison strips, he practically ran back up the stairs. Throwing a pair of logs onto the fire pit, he let loose a blast of fire from his hand to get the fire burning again, grabbing a pan from a nearby cupboard a moment later. He used a block of troll fat to grease the pan, before putting it over the fire.

Within a minute or two, the sound of sizzling could be heard through the room. Nathaniel could see Celria smiling and shaking her head out of the corner of his eye. He worked quickly, putting the eggs and venison strips onto two plates, before handing the woman one of them. Jogging to the other side of the room, he pulled out a container of juice from a small box built into the wall, before pouring two glasses.

As he handed Celria the juice, she sniffed it, before turning her gaze towards him. "What is this?"

Sitting down, he replied, "It's snowberry juice. I boil the water to make sure it's clean, then I boil a separate pot of water with the berries. I strain the juice out, and mix the two together. It doesn't have any alcohol in it, if that is what you're wondering."

She took a tentative sip, before nodding appreciatively. "I like this. Very creative."

He shrugged, "It is just juice. Anyways, enjoy the breakfast."

As Celria began eating, she gazed at him, studying him. "You did not have to make me a breakfast this morning. Especially so early."

Nathaniel smirked, before acting out dramatically. "But how could I let the great dragonborn stay within my humble Inn, and not show my hospitality to her?"

Judging by the way her face fell, he quickly deduced that he had said the absolute wrong thing. "Oh."

He cursed himself, before nudging her foot. He smirked when she looked back up at him. "That said, all that means is I won't charge you for the breakfast. I was still going to do it even before booze-brain over there," he gestured to the unconscious drunk still in the corner of the room, "let slip that you were the dragonborn."

"You were?"

He leaned back, putting his plate down on his lap. "Sure. I thought about it a while last night, and the way I figure, you're still a person like anyone else. You just can do more things than I can." He smirked, "Although, I sure wouldn't mind being able to breathe fire. That sounds like it would be a lot of fun."

Celria began to tentatively smile. "Actually, it can be. But sometimes it is more of a pain than anything."

Now getting curious, Nathaniel leaned forward. "Really? How?"

The woman began to relax as she explained, "Well, it can be fun when I am alone, but if I am anywhere near someone I do not want to hurt, or in a group, I cannot use any of my more powerful shouts, as I risk hitting an ally. It can be very frustrating."

Nathaniel nodded. "I can understand that. I've been working on strengthening my fire spell magic, but I've nearly started a few forest fires while practicing, myself."

Celria began to smile. "You did? How?"

Getting a bit embarrassed, he replied, "The thing is, I happen to really like fire. So sometimes I can get a bit carried away, and a throw around more and more fire… at one point, I had nearly a dozen trees on fire; in the middle of a blizzard, no less."

The woman seemed surprised, her eyes wide. "How did you manage to do that?!"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from her. "There may have been a little alcohol involved… I also may have used said alcohol to help the fire along. Plus, it being the first time I had figured out how to cast a fully fledged fireball didn't help…"

Celria laughed, her amusement clearly written on her face. "That must have been a sight to see."

He gave her an unamused look. "Sure. Especially once a squirrel decided to launch itself at my face from one of those trees. That little fucker had some serious claws." He began to smile as the woman started to laugh even harder. "Ok, just laugh at me some more. Lets see how big and brave _you_ would act if you had one of those tiny things attached to your face by the claws?"

He didn't say anything else for a few moments, letting Celria calm herself down, her laughter subsiding. She seemed to regard him for a time. "Why are you out here?"

With a raised brow, Nathaniel asked, "What do you mean? Out here at this Inn?"

She nodded. "Yes. You do not look like any Nord I've ever seen, but you also do not look like an imperial. That, and you seem like the kind of person who would be better suited to living within one of the holds."

Nathaniel shrugged, looking away. "Well, you are correct; I am not from around these parts. My homeland is… very far away. Much farther than you could travel to in a single lifetime."

Celria's brow furrowed in confusion. "Then how is it you came to be here?"

Shoulders slumping, he replied, "Sheogorath. The Daedric prince of madness. He pulled me through the ether. I don't know why, nor do I particularly care why. I should be grateful he had the decency to drop me near an Inn like this, and not into the middle of a troll's cave."

The woman must have sensed his agitation related to the topic, so she changed topics. "How did you come to be running the Inn?"

At this, he smirked, though there was no humor behind it. "That's an easy one. Hadring, the former owner and proprietor of the Nightgate Inn, was killed by a Dark Brotherhood assassin. When I came out to investigate the sound of a scream, I found the assassin over his dead body. The man had smirked at me, then thrown the deed to the Inn at me. He disappeared in a flash. Not having much other choice, I stayed and kept the place running. Thankfully, I had been going to a school- uh, college, in my homeland, that specialized in running Inns."

Celria seemed intrigued. "Your land has schools that teach inn keeping?"

He nodded, trying to figure out a way to best explain. "In my land, we have very large holds, large enough to have many different businesses. They are so specialized and large, that there are colleges that help to teach people how to work in these places, to help them learn many of the things they need to know. It helps to ensure they know what they need to know to do the jobs required of them. It was actually at this college I learned how to cook as well as I do. A skill that has helped me here in Skyrim."

If the dragonborn had been interested in a college that taught inn keeping, she was absolutely hooked into the conversation at the mention of his cooking helping him. "How would cooking be such an invaluable skill in Skyrim?"

He smirked, leaning back in his seat. "For one, it means I do not go hungry. For another thing, when a guest shows up, and they get some of the food I cook, they tend to find one reason or another to pass through here more frequently than they would otherwise."

"Huh. That is interesting."

The two of them sat for a few moments, neither of them saying anything, just looking at each other. With a slight smile, Nathaniel asked, "Didn't you say you had to hurry to go somewhere? Or are you not in as big a hurry as you let on?"

Celria hesitated, before looking up at the single window in the building. With a shrug of her shoulders, she leaned back in her seat. "It is still dark outside. I can afford to wait until first light." She paused, a moment. "Tell me more about this college you went to. I find myself curious of this college that would teach of inn keeping."

With a raised brow, Nathaniel countered, "How about this; I will tell you a bit about my past, and in return, you tell me some of your past. A story for a story. Fair deal?"

She considered for a short while, but eventually nodded. "I can agree to that. But I get to start, since I asked the first question."

He smiled as he nodded. "Fair enough. So, college…"

* * *

"…and that was how I nearly blew up the entire Inn."

Celria was laughing again, her smile wide. "How could you not know about the dangers of working with fire salts?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "Like I said, I don't have much experience with alchemy. I spent more time focusing on honing my magic skills."

Another lull developed in the conversation, one of the few that had occurred the whole morning, when Celria looked up at the window, and nearly jumped out of her chair. "By the gods, it is nearly midday!"

He stood as she did, moving to help her with her gear. "I'm sorry, Celria. I didn't mean to hold you up so much."

She smiled at him as she slid her pack over her shoulders. "Do not be concerned. I enjoyed myself greatly with our conversation. It has been some time since I have been able to just sit down and talk to another, without any expectations of me."

Nathaniel waved her off, a slight blush coming to his face. "Well, it was nothing. I wish you luck on your journeys, Celria Artoria. Perhaps on occasion, if you find yourself in this neck of the woods, you could find time to stop by again."

She stopped at the door, looking back at him with an indecipherable look on her face. "Perhaps I may."

With that, she was gone, leaving Nathaniel to stare at the door, suddenly feeling much lonelier than he had ever felt before. There was a snort from behind him. He turned, only to see Fultheim staring at him, his head still plastered on the table he was sitting at.

"She likes you."

Nathaniel shook his head, turning to hide the blush threatening to rise to his cheeks. "She was just grateful for the good service she received here. That's all."

The drunken warrior laughed, but cut short with a groan. "If that is really what you think, then you are more dense than even I gave you credit for. I may be a drunken fool, but I am neither blind, nor stupid. If she does not like you, than I am the half-breed son of Alduin."

Looking over his shoulder, Nathaniel smirked. "Actually, now that you mention it, I think I can see the family resemblance."

Fultheim let out a snort, before muttering under his breath. "Milk-drinker."

Laughter was the only response.


	2. Chapter 2

Sheogorath's Curse

Chapter 2

Nathaniel let out a curse as he again attempted to cast a conjuring spell, only for it to fizzle out completely. Fultheim laughed, the man having followed him outside for once. He shot a glare at the veteran warrior. "What's so funny?"

The man smiled, not moving from the spot on the wall he was leaning against. "You have been at this for hours, Nathaniel. You are doing this to impress the dragonborn, are you not?"

Nathaniel turned away from him, ignoring the question. "I need to be able to better defend myself. How better than to conjure a familiar, hm? Something to help me fight against bandits or other creatures."

Fultheim just laughed again. "Bandits? You cannot fool me, Nathaniel. I know just as well as you that there has not been a single bandit attack on this inn in the three years you have been here."

The innkeeper tried again, growling in frustration at another failure. "Fultheim, why exactly are you taking such an interest in this, hm? Why not continue to drown away in that liquor I continuously sell you?"

The man smiled as he moved from the wall, and put his hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Celria has been here six times a mere four weeks. Nathaniel, my friend, I find this so entertaining that it is almost sickening. Enough so that I find myself desiring to stay sober enough to watch, if only to try to get you to see it far enough ahead of time that you do not stumble at the wrong moment."

His brow furrowed in confusion, he turned to the warrior. "Stumble? At what?"

Stepping a few paces away, Fultheim elaborated, "She likes you, Nathaniel. That much is clear. But with as frequently as she continues to come by this Inn, I would wager that on her next visit, she will be wearing an amulet of Mara."

Nathaniel visibly blanched, his somewhat pale complexion turning pure white. "W-w-what?! No, that couldn't be. Celria is the dragonborn, a warrior. I'm just an innkeeper. I can't hardly fight, I've never had to kill anyone-"

A hard slap bit into his cheek, as Fultheim back-handed him, a hard gaze on his face. "Pull yourself together, milk-drinker. I have seen your swordsmanship; it is nothing to balk at. Your magical abilities with fire likely rival that of a fire mage. Your archery… well, let us hope you never have to rely on a bow for your survival against a foe that isn't standing still."

He opened his mouth to say more, when a loud roar reverberated through the air, causing the trees around them to vibrate. Nathaniel's eyes widened. "Dragon!" Grabbing Fultheim's arm, he pulled the other man back around the Inn, and into the door. He slammed the door shut, and quickly stepped away. Neither of them spoke, merely standing and listening.

Suddenly, a loud crashing noise was heard outside the building. Nathaniel slowly began walking backwards, moving towards the stairs that led to the basement of the Nightgate Inn. Fultheim stayed where he was, however. It proved to be the last mistake he ever made. In an instant, the dragon rammed his snout through the roof, its massive jaws clamping down over the man. Fultheim didn't even have time to scream as he was ripped out of the building.

Without waiting, Nathaniel sprinted to the stairs, all but throwing himself down into the basement. He quickly tore across the floor, blowing past Balagog, the Orc standing there in confusion. Smacking his hand onto a single stone, a small stone door slid down, revealing a hidden stone room. He quickly stepped inside, turning in time to see the Orc get crushed under the large wooden beams that had once held the floor up. With a gasp, he smacked his hand into the door control, the stone slab slowly sliding back into place.

With a wave of his hand, the enchanted scone on the wall lit up, a soft glow filling the room from the candlelight spell. He pressed his back into the wall, slowly sliding to the floor. With a sigh, Nathaniel dropped his head into his hands, listening to the dragon destroy the building above him.

* * *

Some time later, Nathaniel came to his senses, realizing that he had fallen asleep. Listening, he let loose a breath of relief when he couldn't hear the dragon anymore. He stood, and moved to the row of chests along the far wall. Grunting, he pulled out a backpack, and took his clothing off, stuffing it into the bag. Opening the first chest, he pulled out a full set of leather armor, quickly fitting the pieces over his body.

The second chest held his weapons. They had cost him almost a full year's profit, but he knew how little that mattered now. A single Nordic sword, a Nordic bow, and a steel dagger, all were slipped into custom made sheaths he had personally crafted from leather hides of deer and other wild game. Then came the quiver of steel arrows, thirty of them in all.

From the third chest, came his emergency stash of supplies. Potions for healing, restoring magicka, and a week's worth of cooked, salted meat. He smiled as he pulled out a parchment, holding the recipe for his hot sauce. A pouch containing a number of expensive gems and a pile of gold coins went onto his belt. Finally, in the bottom of the chest, sat a single silver necklace. He had personally forged the jewelry himself, and in the metal around the ruby in the middle of the necklace, he had carved the names of his family into the metal.

He clutched it tightly, before sliding it around his neck, pushing it beneath the leather cuirass. Standing, he moved towards the door of the room, and pressed the stone button. As the door slid downward, Nathaniel resisted the urge to gag. The smoldering ruins of the Inn had yet to finish burning off, filling the room with an acidic smoke. Moving to the opposite side of the stone safe room, he slammed a second control, causing a panel to slide open in the roof, the snow falling in from above.

He quickly climbed out, making sure nothing fell back down into the room from his body. Thankfully, his craftsmanship held, and all of his weapons, supplies, and backpack stayed firmly attached to him. Standing up, he turned, only for his heart to sink at the sight. The entire structure of the Nightgate Inn was completely destroyed. Not even a single cornerstone was left upright. Most of the rubble had been pushed into the basement, making much of the debris nearly level with the ground.

Walking around to the front, he noted with morbid amusement that the door was still mostly intact. An idea occurred to him, causing him to wonder about his own mental state, as he pulled out a piece of parchment. Writing on it with a piece of charcoal, he used a stray nail to put it onto the door. The sign read: _Out to lunch. Back in ten minutes._

He shook his head at it, chuckling quietly. Without a second glance, he turned and began walking. He wasn't entirely sure where to, but considering the state of the Inn, Nathaniel figured anywhere else would be better than here. He knew that Whiterun was more or less in the direction he was walking, and guessed he could make his way there, once it came into visual range.

He continued walking, not really seeing or thinking as he did so, his mind numb to everything around him. That changed, however, when a low growling noise caught his attention. Turning around, he saw a single wolf come up behind him, snarling at him. Nathaniel could tell the animal was starved, by how thin and gaunt it was. He could also see the wolf was wounded, with a slick coat of blood down one side of the animal's fur. He moved slowly, putting his pack onto the ground. The wolf warily watched him, obviously curious as to why he wasn't running or fighting.

With a pull, a piece of venison came out of the pack. The wolf stopped growling, his eyes locked on the meat. Smirking, Nathaniel tossed it to the wolf. The animal caught it in midair, before putting it down, quickly tearing into the meat. Still smiling, he put the pack back on, and continued walking down the path. He didn't get too far before he heard the animal's feet pattering on the cobblestone path, a quiet whimper sounding out. Turning back, he could see the wolf trying to catch up to him, but fell to the ground, letting loose a yelp of pain.

Nathaniel looked up to the sky, rhetorically asking, "Really?"

Shaking his head, he knelt down to the animal, and extending his hand, began healing the animal's wounded side. The wolf merely laid there, watching him. Once he finished, he sat down, trying to catch his breath. The wolf sat up, looking at him. He met the animal's gaze unwaveringly.

"Well? Are you going to try to eat me next?"

The wolf, not understanding what he was saying, merely tilted his head to one side. Nathaniel couldn't help but smile at the inquisitive gesture. A moment later, his smile turned to laughter as the wolf began licking his face. Reaching up, he pet the animal's head. After a moment, he shook his head, and stood up, moving to walk down the path again. The wolf whimpered, causing him to turn around. The wolf was merely sitting there, looking at him.

Rolling his eyes, he gestured to himself. "Alright, mutt. You want to come with me, then lets go."

The wolf immediately jumped up, and began walking at his side, glancing up at him every so often. Nathaniel just shook his head again, marveling at the strangeness of the whole thing.

* * *

The sun was steadily nearing the horizon when Whiterun finally came into view. Smiling to himself, Nathaniel picked up his pace, wanting to reach the hold before nightfall. He passed by a handful of natives, from farmers to soldiers. All seemed to regard him somewhat strangely, having a wolf walking at his side. Both they and the wolf seemed to watch each other warily. He paid them no mind, content to merely be walking through the land.

A short time later, as he reached the gate, one of the guards stepped forward. "Halt; state your business in Whiterun."

Nathaniel shrugged, readjusting his pack. "I was the proprietor of the Nightgate Inn. A dragon destroyed the entire inn; there's nothing left to even salvage. I came here to seek refuge, maybe look for a job."

The guard nodded, his posture seeming to relax. "We have heard reports of a dragon out that way." Looking down at the wolf, he seemed a bit more suspicious. "What of your animal?"

Glancing down, Nathaniel looked back up at the guard, shrugging. "Beats me. I found him out on the trail, and made friends with him. if you're worried about him attacking someone, I wouldn't. He hasn't acted aggressive to anyone since he started travelling with me."

The guard gave the wolf another look, before shrugging. "If it attacks anyone, it will be put down, and you will be escorted out of the hold. Understood?"

Nathaniel nodded. "I hear you. Thank you." He moved to walk past, but stopped, asking, "Say, does the dragonborn pass through here very often?"

The guard gave him what he assumed was a surprised look. "She does pass through here from time to time. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged as he replied, "The dragonborn stopped by my inn from time to time. I just wanted to let her know that the inn isn't there anymore."

He nodded, the guard relaxing his posture once more. "I will inform her when she comes by again. If she comes at her usual time, it should only be a few days."

With that, he pushed his way through the gate, moving into Whiterun.

* * *

"What do you mean you won't let me keep him in the room with me?"

The woman in front of him, Hulda, was visibly annoyed. "I am telling you, I will not allow a dirty, filthy wolf to stay inside my inn. If you are going to stay in a room, than your animal must remain outside."

With a scoff, Nathaniel turned and walked away. "Then I'll just keep my gold. Thanks for nothing."

He slapped his leg once, the wolf taking the sign to follow him again. Nathaniel couldn't help but marvel at how smart the wolf actually was. Stepping outside, he let out a tired sigh. The sun was already setting, bathing the world in a reddish-orange glow. Slowly, he made his way to the Gildergreen tree, dropping himself down into one of the stone benches. The wolf laid his head down on his leg, and Nathaniel began scratching his head absently.

"That is a beautiful animal you have there."

Spinning his head around, he found himself face to face with a woman, wearing slightly revealing armor, with green war paint across her face, accenting her reddish brown hair further. He nodded to her, "Thank you."

The woman seemed to regard him for a moment. "You seem lost, friend."

He nodded, looking down at the wolf. "You could say that. This morning, I was the owner of the Nightgate Inn, and had been for over two years. This afternoon, I'm but a man with the clothes on his back, the weapons on his belt, and the belongings in his pack. What remains of my Inn smolders in the dirt, left behind by a dragon. So yes, lost is a very apt description of how I feel right now." He paused, before looking back up at her. "My name is Nathaniel."

The woman nodded to him. "Greetings to you, Nathaniel. I am Aela the Huntress. Why are you out here, and not in the inn?"

He scowled, his hand continuing to stroke the wolf's fur. "The innkeeper told me I couldn't let the wolf in. So I left." His scowl diminished, and he let out a tired sigh. "I'll just sleep outside, probably against the wall in a dark corner somewhere within the walls. It's been a while since I've slept outside, anyways. I could use the fresh air."

Aela smirked at his statement. She regarded him and the wolf for a moment, before turning in place. "You are welcome to join us in Jorrvaskr for the night, if you would like. Any man willing to give up comfort for an animal is welcome in our home for a time."

Nathaniel stared after her, stupidly, before jumping up to his feet, grabbing his pack. He slapped his leg, the wolf following him a moment later. He was quick to follow her, but he hesitated at the entryway to the large hall. As soon as he moved through the door, he felt the entire atmosphere shift, as all eyes in the room turned to regard him. Aela was quick to speak to them.

"This is Nathaniel. He and his companion will be joining us this evening."

As everyone regarded him and the wolf for a few moments, Nathaniel couldn't help but feel as though he were being put under a microscope. However, the feeling quickly left, as most everyone returned to his or her own business. A much older man, however, walked up to the two of them, one of his eyes white with blindness. "Aela, who might this young man be?"

He stepped forward before the woman could reply for him. "I was the owner of an inn down the way, the Nightgate Inn. It was destroyed by a dragon this morning."

The man nodded. "I am impressed you were able to salvage that much gear and equipment out of the rubble."

Nathaniel shrugged, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, I had a stash of gear in a hidden cellar, outside of the structure of the Inn. Just in case."

At this, the older man actually laughed, a smile gracing his features. "A man after my own spirit! Well, young man, I am Kodlak Whitemane."

The younger man gave him a nod of respect. "The Harbinger of the Companions. I know of you. It's an honor to meet you."

Looking down at the wolf, he leaned down and patted his head. "What is the name of your animal?"

"Actually, he doesn't have one yet. He and I met this morning. He came towards me, clearly starving and hurt. Rather than chase him off, I tossed him some meat. When he made to follow me and fell, I healed him. He's been following me ever since."

Kodlak was visibly surprised at this. "To put ones trust into an animal so readily, that is a quality many men do not possess. Come morning, I may have more to discuss with you. I would ask that you do not leave at first light. Would that be acceptable?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Of course."

With that, the older man left, leaving Nathaniel to stand there, Aela looking on, rather bemused. "The Harbinger does not often ask such a thing of travellers. You should feel honored."

The man gave the huntress a skeptical look. "Honor isn't in question. It's the worry that is accompanying it that's the problem." He saw Aela prepare to ask him something else, but he spoke first. "As I'm sure you have many questions, may I ask for them to wait until morning? I have had a very long day, and would like to get some rest."

She nodded, before gesturing. "Very well. Follow me. We will let you sleep in the quarters with the newer members."

She led him to the basement, before allowing him entry into a small room, lined with multiple beds. Moving to one in the far corner, he saw it didn't have a chest with it, and assumed it to be empty. Sliding his pack underneath, he took off his helmet and boots, and slid both of them next to the pack on the floor. His weapons quickly joined the rest of his things on the floor, save for his dagger, which he slipped beneath his pillow. Lying down on the bed, he let out a sigh of relief.

A moment later, the wolf jumped up onto the bed, quickly lying down next to him, his snout just beneath Nathaniel's chin. Wrapping an arm over the wolf, he couldn't help but smirk at how much things had changed in just a single day.

* * *

Nathaniel woke to someone jabbing him in the ribs. With a hiss, he opened his eyes, only to see Aela standing over him, a smirk on her face. "Wake up. Kodlak would like to speak to you."

He nodded, and quickly put his gear back on, his weapons in place, and his pack onto his shoulder. Aela led him through the halls, until gesturing for him to enter a room. Moving in, he found himself face to face with Kodlak again, with another man standing behind him. The older man quietly regarded him for a while. "I would like to extend an offer to you, Nathaniel."

A single eyebrow raised, he resisted the urge to shuffle in place. "What offer?"

The older man continued, "We are continuously looking for new members to join the Companions. However, we seek those with honor, strength, courage, and intelligence. From what little I have heard from you and of you, you seem to possess all of these traits. I am offering you the chance to join the Companions."

As much self control as he usually had, Nathaniel couldn't stop his jaw from dropping in surprise. "I-I would be honored, sir."

Kodlak smiled, before patting his shoulder. "You do not need to refer to me as sir. No one here rules over another. We are all equals among brothers."

The other man mumbled under his breath, just barely audible. "Still think this is a mistake."

Kodlak turned, quick to reply, "Vilkas, we discussed this. If I were not sure of his character, I would not make him the offer." After a moment, he rebutted, "If it will appease you, then you take him to the yard and test his abilities with his weapon."

Vilkas grimaced, but nodded, moving past both men. "Follow me, whelp."

He did as the older man instructed, following him outside into the training yard behind Jorrvaskr. The wolf followed obediently behind, clearly feeling much better by the spring in the animal's step. Nathaniel stopped at the edge of the yard, pointing for the wolf to stay there. The wolf did as told, and laid down, watching him. Vilkas nodded to him as he stepped closer.

"Commanding an animal like that is commendable; especially a wild one like him. Now, let us see if you can command your blade just as well."

The Companion pulled out a sword, prompting Nathaniel to do the same. He could see the older man raise an eyebrow at the sight of his sword, but Vilkas did not hesitate, quickly swinging his blade towards him. Nathaniel ducked beneath the swing, before swinging his own sword back. The blade impacted the man's shield, causing him to stagger back a few steps.

Vilkas paced around him a few steps, before bringing around another swing. Nathaniel deflected this hit with his sword, before turning his sword around, stabbing in a reverse motion. The blade hit his shield once more, but this time, Vilkas did not stagger back.

"Enough." Nathaniel turned, seeing Vilkas sheath his sword. "Perhaps I underestimated you. While your form was sloppy, you more than made up for it with strength. Given some time and training, you could become quite the swordsman." He paused, before glancing up at the Skyforge. "Here, take my sword up to Eorlund Grey-Mane. It needs some work done to it."

Nathaniel smirked, before taking the blade. "Sure thing."

* * *

Dropping down onto the bed later that afternoon, Nathaniel let out a sigh of relief. The various members of the Companions had all asked him to do different favors. Eorlund had told him he did not need to always do what he was told by the others, as all Companions stand equal to one another, but Nathaniel didn't mind doing these tasks for the others. They were never mean when they asked, so it didn't bother him.

Laying back, the wolf was quick to jump onto the bed, lying his head onto Nathaniel's chest. Looking down at him, he let out a sigh.

"You know, you need a name, buddy."

The wolf looked at him, before lowering his head again. He paused, and thought about some names he had come across while reading various stories from books he had read from the Nightgate Inn.

"How about Saeta?"

The wolf stuck his head up at the name, before nuzzling his cheek. Nathaniel laughed, petting the animal's head.

"Alright; Saeta it is." With a sigh, he laid his head back, closing his eyes. "G'night, Saeta."

Before he could go to sleep, however, some of the other members of the Companions came into the room, talking and laughing. Glancing up, he saw most of them move off to their own beds, but one of the women, Ria, if he recalled, moved over towards him. Sitting down on the bed across from his, she smirked at him. "A beautiful animal you have there."

Nathaniel smiled. "Thanks. I'm Nathaniel."

She nodded. "So I have heard. I'm Ria. It is a pleasure to meat you."

"Likewise."

She eyed him up and down, making him shift uncomfortably. She noticed. "Is there something wrong?"

Not wanting to sound offensive, he waited a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. "Judging by the look you just gave me, you seem interested in me. However, I am currently… pursuing someone else, myself."

Ria's eyebrows rose. "Really?" He nodded, causing the woman to look just a little saddened by that. "A pity. Well, I will see you around, perhaps to train."

He nodded again. "Perhaps. Goodnight, Ria."

He laid back, trying to push the encounter out of his mind as his thoughts drifted to Celria. He hoped she was ok, and not worried about him. After a moment, he let out a snort, figuring he, a former innkeeper, would be the least of the dragonborn's worries.

* * *

Nathaniel smirked as he heard Farkas scoff at him. "I do not understand why you focus so much on trying to master control over fire."

He continued to roll the ball of fire between his hands, increasing and decreasing the intensity and heat of the fire. "Because there may come a time when I find myself without a weapon, or not having the time to draw a weapon. A blast of fire from my hand can take far less time to use on an enemy too close to draw blades." He paused, before smiling wider. "That, and I love playing with fire."

The other man rolled his eyes, turning back to his food. "Clearly."

It had been a few days since his arrival. He had participated in some training with both Farkas and his brother Vilkas, in heavy armor and two handed weapons, respectively. He had also spent some time training with Athis in one handed weaponry. He had attempted to train with Aela with her skill in archery, but after seeing him shoot barely three arrows, the woman had declared him hopeless, and left him to his own devices.

The door to the hall opened suddenly, drawing everyone's attention. Saeta perked his head up, but made no motion to move from Nathaniel's feet. He nearly gasped as he saw Celria walk in, but instead sat to watch. He could see the woman's entire posture seemed incredibly downtrodden; her shoulders were slumped, and her head hung. Aela moved towards her, and spoke just loud enough for him to make out the words.

"Hail, dragonborn. What troubles you?"

Celria looked at the huntress, before looking away. "You remember me telling you about the man I had met, working the inn between Whiterun and Winterhold?" Aela nodded. "The inn was destroyed. There was no sign of him, aside from this note on the door in his handwriting. I spent a few days looking for him, but I fear he may be dead by now, whether by bandits or by the elements."

While she spoke, Nathaniel slowly stood, moving around behind Celria, so she couldn't see him. Aela noticed him, but said nothing, seeing the huge grin on his face. The huntress turned back to the dragonborn. "You are certain you have not found any evidence of him?"

Celria nodded. "One of the guards told me a man came here and told him of the Nightgate Inn's destruction, but he did not know where the man had gone." She let out a tired sigh. "I do not know if he's even still around."

Standing barely two feet behind her, Nathaniel crossed his arms, finally speaking up. "Well, I've heard from a rather reliable source this guy probably stuck around for a while."

Celria spun around in place, her eyes wide. As soon as she recognized him, her eyes lit up, a grin covering her face. "Nathaniel!"

He scarcely had time to smile back at her, before the woman launched herself at him, tackling him in a hug. Losing his balance, the two of them fell to the floor. He started to laugh as Saeta came bounding over, barking and yelping, before licking his face. Untangling himself from the woman, he sat up, still grinning. "Surprise."

She smacked his arm. "I thought you were dead!"

His smile faded a bit, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I almost was. A dragon hit the Inn. Fultheim and Balagog both died. The dragon either ate or tore Fultheim apart. The building collapsed on top of Balagog. The only reason I survived is because I had a safe room built into the basement, out from beneath the inn itself."

Celria nodded, "I found that room, while I was examining the debris. I did not know that you had built it."

A smirk returning to his face, Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "That's kind of the point of a safe room, actually; for people to not know it's there, so I can use it when under attack to hide away in safety." Saeta chose that moment to start nudging Nathaniel's hand. "Oh, Celria, this is Saeta. I met him on my journey from the inn to Whiterun. Probably saved his life, actually."

She smiled as she held her hand out to the wolf, who hesitated at first, but gingerly moved to her reach. After a few moments, however, Saeta stepped up to her, and began licking her face, much to the woman's chagrin, laughing and trying to push the wolf away, mostly unsuccessfully.

As Saeta finally pulled away, Nathaniel saw Celria's eyes lock with his, her relief mixing in with her amusement, as well as another emotion he couldn't place. Glancing down, he realized her hand was in his, fingers twined together. "I am glad that you were not hurt, Nathaniel. I was worried for you."

Feeling a surge of nervousness, he waved her off, forcing up a brave smile and his emotional wall of humor. "You didn't have to worry. A little dragon wouldn't scare me off. Besides, he was probably just there for my cooking."

Celria placed her other hand on his cheek, silencing him. The swirl of emotions in her eyes sent shivers up his spine. "You are hiding behind your humor, Nathaniel."

Still smiling, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess I am. it's served me well enough to this point; kind of hard not to stick with what I know works."

She moved closer to him, until her nose nearly touched his. She whispered, "Stop trying to hide."

He was sure she would have kissed him right there, if Aela hadn't cleared her throat behind Celria. "I do not think this is the appropriate place for this, dragonborn." The amusement was clear in her voice. "Although I am sure there are rooms downstairs where you could continue…?"

Laughter echoed through the mead hall from the various members of the Companions. However, Nathaniel couldn't help but gulp at the twinkle in Celria's eyes as she pulled away, still smiling at him.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: To address a review: yes, this story's romance subplot is faster. Have you ever played Skyrim? As the dragonborn, you can literally get into a fist fight with someone, beat them, and propose marriage to them in the next sentence. Or my personal favorite, one woman you can merely hire as a sellsword, and she'll willingly marry your dragonborn character. Skyrim is not a land of lightly dancing around the topic of marriage. These people just say "fuck it, let's get hitched. The rest we'll figure out later."

Also, beware. Sheogorath is getting bored again…

* * *

Sheogorath's Curse

Chapter 3

Nathaniel grimaced, a jolt shooting up his arm, as he continued to hammer away at the sword he was crafting, working up at the Skyforge. He had asked Eorlund for permission to use the forge when the older man wasn't. The smith had agreed, which was why Nathaniel was using it as a refuge to get out of Jorrvaskr for a while. He could see the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon. Glancing over, he could see Saeta lying on his side, soaking in the sun's rays, half asleep.

He nearly froze as he heard footsteps approaching the Skyforge. Glancing over, pausing mid-swing, he let out a sigh of relief when he realized it was just Aela. He turned away, continuing to hammer away at the sword he was shaping.

"Hail, Nathaniel."

He nodded, but didn't look up. "Hail, huntress."

The woman approached him, moving to stand directly behind him. "The dragonborn is looking for you, Nathaniel."

"I am aware."

He could practically feel the surprise roll off her. "Then why are you up here?"

His shoulders tensed, the hammer smacking the metal, before coming to rest atop it. "I saw her wearing an amulet of Mara. To my knowledge, there is only one man who currently has her interest like that."

Aela did not respond immediately. "Is it your intent to turn her down?"

He spun around, eyes wide. "No! I-I mean…" He turned away, back towards the forge, putting his hands down on the edge of the stone ring, the heat wafting up from the burning embers. "I don't know, Aela."

The huntress moved to stand next to him. "What troubles you?"

Nathaniel let loose a humorless laugh. "What troubles me? Damn near everything, right now." He turned around, walking away from the forge to look out on Whiterun. "The ways of Skyrim, even after three years, are still foreign to me, Aela. In my realm, courtship and marriage were not something to be rushed into. Death was not around every corner, and it was common to take time to fall in love, to discover someone to marry. Not like here."

The woman behind him scoffed. "That is not all that troubles you, Nathaniel. I can see it in your posture, hear it in your voice."

He turned back to her, eyes narrowed. "Fine. Why me?"

This was not what Aela had expected. Seemingly confused, her head tilted to one side. "Excuse me?"

"Why me, Aela? Why would Celria be attracted to me? In my realm, I was an outcast, a reject. No woman wanted a damn thing to do with me. But here, in Skyrim, I find myself under the eye of the most prized, coveted, powerful woman in all of Tamriel! But me? At best, I'm as good as a common sellsword. I'm better with magic than the sword, and a better chef than both of those combined! What good would I be to her, other than to hide within our house, occasionally cooking a meal for her while she takes a break from saving the world?"

The huntress was at a loss for words for a time. Eventually, she looked at him. "You fear that you are not good enough for her?"

Nathaniel nodded, lowering his gaze. "Less that I fear it, more that I feel it."

"Then your feelings are wrong." He looked up to her, curious. She continued, "If the dragonborn did not feel that you were worthy for her, she would not pursue you. That you survived an attack by a dragon speaks volumes of your strength of will. To have hidden such a wealthy stash of supplies showed great intelligence and foresight. Do not judge yourself so harshly."

He didn't say anything at first, but after a few minutes, asked, "What should I do?"

For the first time since the conversation began, Aela smiled. "Go talk to her." The huntress glanced over her shoulder, and her smile turned into a smirk. As she walked past him, she patted his shoulder, whispering, "Good luck, Nathaniel."

As he turned, he saw Celria standing at the top of the steps, watching him. Judging by the look on her face, he knew that she had heard most of what had just been said. He could see her hand idly playing with the amulet of Mara around her neck. Nathaniel took a calming breath, trying and failing to stop the shaking in his hands. "Hail, Celria."

She smiled at him. "Hail, Nathaniel."

His eyes darting back to the amulet, he smiled back. "So… an amulet of Mara, hm?"

The woman nodded, slowly stepping closer to him. "Yes; it would seem there is a man who has caught my eye. A man who has an uncanny ability to make me smile and laugh. A man full of mystery and surprise."

Nathaniel raised a brow, matching the woman's step, and meeting her halfway. "Mystery and surprise?"

Celria nodded, putting her arms around his neck as she looked into his eyes. "Yes. After all, who would suspect a simple innkeeper of having a hidden room, capable of surviving a dragon attack, filled with enough equipment to arm a mercenary? Or this simple innkeeper somehow earning a place within the ranks of the Companions so quickly? Or even that this innkeeper comes from a land far beyond the reach of any mere mortal of Tamriel?"

Nathaniel couldn't help but smile as he put his hands on her hips. "Well, when you put it like that, it makes this man sound so very interesting."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling in the light. "I think that he is rather interesting. I also think he does not think as highly of himself as he should."

His smile faltered slightly, but he managed to keep it in place. "Maybe you're right. But it's not so easy to change a belief formed over years in a few days."

Celria moved closer to him, putting her lips to his ear. She whispered, "I am willing to take more than a few days to change your mind."

As she pulled away, he hesitated, looking into her eyes. "You don't even know me."

Her smile became more tentative, as though she feared what his reaction would be. "We can learn about each other in time. If you are willing to give me that opportunity?"

Nathaniel took a deep breath, looking into the woman's eyes, seeing how vulnerable she looked at that moment. Softening his gaze, he gingerly pressed his lips to hers for a moment, before pulling back, a smile on his face. "I'm willing."

Celria's smile was almost blinding it was so wide, but as she moved to kiss him again, a loud explosion sounded through the air. Both of them pulled away from each other, looking around. Nathaniel's gaze was drawn to a flash of light to the southeast, along with a streak of light moving towards the ground.

"**Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace!**"

The object impacted the ground some distance away from the hold, but Nathaniel merely let out a groan of both annoyance and mild amusement. As though it were an echo in the air, he could almost hear Sheogorath's laughter ringing through his ears.

Celria was still shocked by the event. "By the gods; what was that?"

Shaking his head, Nathaniel replied, "Just another friendly gift from that damnable bastard of a Daedra, Sheogorath."

She turned to him, eyes wide. "You are certain of this? Can you feel his presence?"

He shook his head again. "Not really. I could hear his laughter, though. That, and this isn't the first time I've seen something similar to this. I've seen this trick before, back in my realm." He didn't bother trying to explain that he had seen it on the Internet, for a Skyrim game mod. That likely would have made as much sense to the dragonborn as nuclear physics.

"Is it dangerous? Should we investigate?"

Nathaniel couldn't help but smirk, thinking of how _not_ dangerous the space core was. "I doubt it is dangerous, but if you are curious, you can go investigate."

Celria nudged his shoulder with her arm as she corrected him. "I said we, not me." She started walking, oblivious to the look of surprise on his face. As she looked over her shoulder at him, however, he realized she must have already known how he would react. "Are you coming?"

Smiling, he nodded, grabbing his leather helmet from beside Saeta. The wolf jumped up, falling in step beside him. The wolf rarely left his side, since he had saved the animal. He walked with the woman back to Jorrvaskr, waiting inside the mead hall as she went and retrieved her gear. Nathaniel pointedly ignored the look Aela gave him from where she sat, the huntress having a far too smug look on her face.

As Celria came back up, wearing her glass armor, she gave his armor a once-over. "We will need to get you better armor, if you are to travel with me."

Nathaniel scoffed, folding his arms. "I crafted this armor myself, thank you very much!"

She patted his shoulder, smiling. "And you did a fine job at it. Unfortunately, leather armor will not stop the teeth of a bear, much less those of a dragon. Once we investigate this trickery of Sheogorath, I will take you to my home. I have numerous suits of armor I have collected from foes I have slain. I am sure I have something suitable for you there."

He didn't say anything more, but muttered under his breath, too quietly for her to hear. The two of them, along with the wolf, quietly made their way out of the walls of Whiterun. Though it was approaching dark, they moved quickly, heading in the direction of the occurrence. Strangely, they didn't encounter any form of wildlife, or any enemies as they traversed.

Finally, approaching what appeared to be the remains of an old house, Nathaniel could hear the space core speaking.

"**Space, space, wanna go to space, space, space.**"

As they stepped into the door, the mechanical eye turned to look at them.

"**Hey, hey! Wanna go to space! Will you take me to space? **_**Space!**_"

Celria approached the machine, eyes wide with curiosity. "What is this device?"

Thinking quickly, he replied, "It's similar to a Dwemer device, except from a race other than the Dwemer." Glancing around, looking through the holes in the walls, he continued, "We can take it with us. I don't think we should stay here very long…"

Before she could reply, Saeta began growling, turned towards the door. As Nathaniel turned to face the door, he found himself staring at a dark elf, wearing black robes, sneering at him. The elf brought up his hands, which were quickly engulfed in flames.

Nathaniel couldn't help but smirk, his own hands clenching into fists and becoming surrounded with flames. "So you like to play with fire? So do I."

The mage let loose a stream of fire at him, which Nathaniel quickly deflected, using his own mastery over the flames to cause them to pass by them, harmlessly. The mage kept this up for a few moments, but stopped when he realized it wasn't working. Nathaniel was surprised; it was as though the mage was merely throwing the fire at him, releasing control of it as soon as it left his hands. In all of his experimenting, he had learned how to control the fire completely and totally, rather than just flinging it around like one would throw rocks. The elf's red eyes narrowing, he collected a ball of fire, and launched it towards him.

Thinking quickly, Nathaniel caught the fireball, and began tossing it between his hands, playing with it. He smiled as he saw the anger building up in the mage's face. After a few moments of this, he caused the fireball to dissipate. The elf began throwing fireball after fireball, but each one Nathaniel simply caught and made dissipate. Finally, the mage sagged, his form visibly weary. Celria moved to go around him, her sword at the ready, but he held out a hand to stop her.

Stepping forward himself, Nathaniel passed the man a magicka potion. The mage gave him a look as though he were crazy. "How were you able to overpower me so easily?"

Nathaniel smirked at the elf's question. "I didn't." The elf did a double take. "When you were using your fire magic, you were releasing your control of the fire as soon as it left your hands, the same way an archer releases control of an arrow once it leaves the bow. All I did was take control of the fire and manipulate it away from me once it got close enough to me. To control it, you have to become more like the painter wielding a brush."

Taking a step back, Nathaniel allowed a ball of fire to engulf his hand, and he slowly ran it through the air. Focusing on the fire itself, he allowed it to stay in the air where his hand passed through, leaving a fiery streak of flames hanging in the air, like the stroke of a brush. The dark elf was visibly awed at the sight. "H-how…?"

Letting the flames dissipate, Nathaniel smiled. "You have to stop focusing on the raw power, and focus on controlling it. Don't let it control you."

There was an awkward pause for a few moments, before the elf turned to him, questioning. "Why do you not kill me?"

His smile disappearing, Nathaniel stepped forward until he was face to face with the mage. "Every life has value. Even if you consider me your enemy, there may be someone who relies on you; an apprentice, a spouse, a child. Who am I to decide who should live or die, if I have the opportunity to make that choice?"

The mage seemed as though he were about to reply, but as Nathaniel looked over his shoulder, he saw a group of bandits approaching through the brush. More specifically, he saw a bandit readying a bow and arrow. With a mental curse, he pushed the mage aside, diving to the ground. He barely avoided the arrow, the feathers brushing against the back of his helmet.

"That said, some people need killed for the better good; like bandits!" Grunting, he pushed himself up, gathering flames in his hands as the first bandit approached, sword at the ready. With a yell, he shot a column of fire right into the man's face. He immediately dropped his sword, clutching at his face, screaming in pain. Pulling out his own sword, Nathaniel blocked a swing from another man, this one smaller than the first.

The second bandit had barely taken a step backward, than an arrow planted itself into his chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Celria, a bow in hand. She smirked at him, but he just shook his head, already looking for the last bandit. He heard the woman scream, and as he moved to where he could see her, he found Saeta tearing the bandit's throat out. The wolf looked up from the rapidly dying bandit, panting. Nathaniel couldn't help but shake his head, finding himself morbidly amused at the wolf.

Turning back, he was quick to address Celria. "We should grab the artifact and leave; the longer we stay here, the more people we will encounter, coming to investigate this incident."

The dragonborn nodded. "I had guessed as much."

Glancing around, Nathaniel realized the mage had disappeared, likely having run off while they had fought the bandits. "We should get out of here. I'll get the artifact."

Celria nodded again, smiling at him. "I was just thinking the same thing."

He moved around her, and stepped into the remains of the house to pick up the space core. It was seemingly oblivious to him at first.

"**Ba, ba bah, ba, space. Oh, hey! Hey, hey! Where are we going? Space? I like space! I wanna go to space! Lets go to space! Space, space, space; can we go to space?**"

It took all of Nathaniel's self control not to punt the personality module into the nearest ravine.

* * *

Some time later, some time after the sun had set, the two of them made it to Celria's home. Looking up at it, Nathaniel realized it was one of the properties the dragonborn could purchase, but he didn't remember which one this was. Glancing over at her, the woman just smiled.

"Welcome to Heljarchen Hall." As she pushed open the doors, she called out, "Lydia, are you still here?"

An armored woman stepped out from around the corner, sheathing her sword, smiling. "My Thane, it is good to see you…" As Lydia's gaze fell onto him, her smile diminished somewhat. "Who is your guest?"

Celria smiled, patting the other woman's shoulder. "Calm yourself, Lydia. This is the man I told you about, from the Nightgate Inn."

The Housecarl immediately relaxed, a smile coming back to her face. "I see. You have finally brought him to your home." The woman noticed what Celria was wearing, and her smile grew even wider. "I see you are wearing an amulet of Mara. Has he…?"

Nathaniel decided to answer, stepping forward and closing the door behind him. "Yes, I have accepted."

Lydia seemed immensely pleased to hear that. "Good! I shall bring out the wine; we will celebrate!"

The dragonborn laughed, placing a hand on Lydia's shoulder to hold her in place. "Let us wait on the celebrating. We will journey for Riften in the morning, to make for the temple of Mara. We will celebrate upon our return."

The Housecarl nodded. "Shall I send out couriers upon your departure to inform your close friends of your wedding? I would be remiss for you to not have guests at your own marriage ceremony."

The woman waved her off, moving to the interior of the main chamber. "Do as you will, Lydia. I am retiring for the night. We will discuss this further in the morning." Celria paused, turning to Nathaniel, a small smile on her face. "Are you coming?"

He stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment, before nodding, following the woman up the stairs. "Saeta, stay." The wolf whimpered a little, but did as he asked. With only a few steps past the top of the stairs, he found himself standing in Celria's bedroom. Moving into the room, he couldn't help but notice a myriad of weapons hung along the walls, as well as jewelry of all types on special plaques. None of these things held his attention for long, however, as Celria closed the door behind him.

Turning, he saw her standing there, looking somewhat hesitant. "I will admit, I have never done this before…"

Eyes widening, Nathaniel held up his hands, smiling nervously. "Hey, let's, uh, not rush into things just yet. How about we hold off on, um, _that_… until after we're married?"

"O-oh, right. I did not think of that."

He could tell she still seemed apprehensive. "How about this. I'll turn around so you can change out of your armor, then I'll do the same. Then I'll have a surprise for you." Seeing her skeptical look, he smiled. "Nothing bad, I promise."

She nodded, before moving to the other side of the room. He kept himself facing the wall as she changed, taking his armor off himself. He was grateful they had taken the time to swing past Whiterun to pick up his belongings. Pulling out his casual pants and shirt, the space core module, stuffed in the bottom of his pack, looked up at him, almost hopefully.

"**Space?**"

He shook his head, closing the pack and shoving it in the cabinet next to the bed. With his pants on, he stood up, turning around with the shirt in hand, only to stop in surprise. Celria was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, facing him. She was only wearing a large baggy shirt, with clasps of some sort keeping it closed in the front. She smiled at him, looking at his shirtless form.

He noted the mischievous glint to her eye, a mere moment before she took his shirt from his hands. He gaped at her, an eyebrow raised. "Hey!"

She smirked, just before tossing the shirt under the bed. "You do not need that." Looking at him expectantly, she asked, "What is this surprise you have for me?"

Nathaniel gestured with one hand, "Turn around and close your eyes."

Shooting him a wary gaze, she nonetheless did as he said. He climbed onto the bed, and crossing his own legs, sat down behind Celria. Reaching forward, he put his hands on her shoulders and began massaging. "What are you… you… _oh…_"

He had to resist laughing at the way the woman's head dropped forward, her entire body practically going limp as he gave her a shoulder and neck rub. As he pressed his thumbs along her spine, he couldn't help but ask, "I take it you've never been given a massage like this?"

It took her a moment to formulate a reply. "Nuh… No…"

He pressed into her upper back, and winced at the number of knots he could feel in her muscles. Pulling away, he stated, "If you lay down on your stomach, I can… get your back…"

She was on her stomach before he could even finish speaking. He noticed that she thankfully was wearing her undergarments beneath the shirt. With a shrug, he straddled her hips, and began massaging her entire back. "_By the gods… _Where did you learn this skill?!"

Smirking, he spoke while he worked, "I have older sisters. That, and I played a piano… wait, you wouldn't know what that is. I have a lot of dexterity with my fingers, so I'm very good at tasks that require a lot of precision with my hands. Like cooking, and back rubs."

He fell quiet as he massaged her back, and kept at it for a while. Eventually, he let out a yawn, and moved to lie down. Noting the relatively thick blanket, he crawled underneath it, noting Celria doing the same. He nearly jumped in surprise as the woman cuddled up to his side, lying her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around him. Tentatively, he put his arm around her, before forcing himself to relax. Soon after, he fell asleep.

* * *

When Nathaniel woke the next morning, he felt uncomfortably warm. Glancing down as he opened his eyes, he quickly discovered why. Celria was draped over top of him, arms wrapped around him, as though she were trying to absorb his body heat. However, at some point during the night her shirt had come open, leaving most of her skin pressed up against his chest and arms.

He experimentally tried moving a little, but the woman squeezed tighter, letting out a quiet groan of annoyance. Her shifting sent a blast of heat to his groin, making him bite his lip to keep quiet. Trying to think, he tried a different tactic.

"Celria? Hey, it's time to get up."

She let out another moan, snuggling closer and putting her face down into his neck. Her breath across his skin sent shivers down his spine. When he felt her lips press down against his neck, he mentally cursed himself, before breaking her hold on him, and pulled away from her. The woman groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes. "N-Nathaniel?"

Sitting up, rather enjoying the cold air of the room around him, he looked over his shoulder, smiling. "Sorry about that. You were making… uh, some rather forward advances towards me in your sleep."

He could see the confusion in her eyes, before she looked down at herself. Seeing her shirt wide open, she let out a tiny squeak, before pulling it closed, her cheeks turning a bright red. "S-sorry."

Nathaniel just laughed, reaching under the bed for his shirt. "It's fine. However, from here on out, at least until after we're married, we should be dressed in a bit more than this if we sleep together. Deal?"

She nodded, before moving off the bed, reaching for her armor.

* * *

An hour later, the two of them were on the road. Celria was back in her glass armor. Nathaniel, however, was dressed in a set of elven armor. The woman had tried to get him into more expensive, heavier armor, but he had refused. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck without the ability to maneuver, or run if necessary.

Though they hadn't stayed at Celria's home very long, Nathaniel had nevertheless taken a little time to explore, discovering the building was definitely designed to be lived in. It sported a huge kitchen, a greenhouse, and a storage room added onto the back of the structure. All in all, knowing how much he enjoyed cooking, he knew he would not mind spending a fair amount of time in Celria's home.

After passing a wagon moving along the path, he decided to let her know. "I just wanted to say you have a beautiful home, Celria."

The woman smiled as she looked at him. "Thank you. Do not forget that it will soon be your home as well."

Slowing down slightly, he gave her a look. "What was it that made you interested in me?"

A thoughtful look crossed Celria's face. "I believe that at first, it was that you treated me like a person, and not like a hero. However, once I started to get to know you, I found myself enjoying your sense of humor, and your personality." She smirked as she looked at him again. "It helps that you are easy on the eyes."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes and looked away, trying to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. A moment later, a smile graced his lips. "So would it be considered flattery if I were to tell you I thought you're beautiful?"

Celria playfully pushed him, laughing. "You are just saying that."

Scoffing, he turned to her in mock offense. "I would never joke about such a thing!" Turning away, he spoke quieter, admitting, "It was part of why I was so hesitant about… well, about saying yes. I figured a beautiful woman such as yourself could do a lot better than me."

He felt her hand on his cheek, gently urging him to look at her. "What I could have done does not matter. I chose you. Stop questioning it."

He held up his hands in surrender, smiling. "Ok, I will." As she stepped away, his smile turned into a smirk. "Unless I want to rile you up and get you annoyed, of course."

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. Once she saw his smile, her eyes narrowed, and she scooped up a snowball. She quickly threw it at him, but he ducked, missing the projectile. He returned the favor, throwing a snowball of his own. Within moments, the two of them were flinging snowballs at each other, laughing the whole time.

"How quaint."

Both of them stopped, only to see a trio of high elves standing there, scowling at them. They both stood up, Celria stepping forward. "Can we help you?"

The elf in the mage's robes spoke, his tone haughty. "State your business, Nord."

To her credit, the woman kept her tone level and civil. "The two of us are heading for Riften. It is our intention to be married in the temple of Mara."

The three high elves began to chuckle, and the mage spoke again, wearing a rather disconcerting smile. "Perhaps we should extend our condolences. Should we not, men?"

Nathaniel's hand slowly drifted to his sword as he saw the two soldier elves begin to move to the left and right, as though to box them in. However, they all stopped as a large cheese wheel rolled between them, having come down the hill. All eyes moved towards the hill, just as a second cheese wheel came from down the hill.

The lead elf spoke up, "What was-"

Before he could finish the sentence, a dull rumbling noise filled the air, quickly turning to a roar. Nathaniel's eyes grew wide as thousands of cheese wheels came into view, rolling and flowing down the hill. He grabbed Celria around the waist, and pulled her to the ground, covering her with his body, ducking his head down. He heard muffled cries of alarm and pain from the elves, but strangely, did not feel the impact from the cheese wheels.

As the noise subsided, he looked up in confusion. There, in a ten foot circle around them, was a pile of cheese wheels nearly four feet high. Standing up, he looked to where the elves had been standing, only to find the piles were twice as high. He could hear their muffled cries. In a flash of light, Sheogorath appeared sitting atop one of the piles, laughing hysterically.

The Daedra reached up to his head, a hat appearing as he pulled it off, tipping it towards them. With a Cheshire grin, he spoke, "A happy wedding to you both!"

Then, with a snap of his fingers, the Daedric prince vanished, leaving Nathaniel and Celria to stand there, very much confused. He shook his head, before starting to crawl over the pile of cheese. Celria spoke up from behind him. "Is this the sort of thing I should get used to?"

With a sigh, Nathaniel nodded, not turning around to look at the woman. "Most likely. Are you still convinced you want to marry me?"

Before he could get his feet onto solid ground, he felt the woman tackle him from behind, the two of them rolling down the piles of cheese wheels, before they came to a halt, Celria on top of him, smiling. She kissed him, deeply, before pulling away. "Yes."

* * *

A/N: Yeah, ok, the cheese wheels may be a bit of overkill. However, after seeing a YouTube video someone did using cheats spawning hundreds of cheese wheels at the top of a mountain, it was just too good to not use. And if you don't know the space core from Portal 2, then shame on you. Go look up skyrim space core mod on YouTube. Funniest thing I've seen in months.


End file.
